


Always By Your Side

by ThedasWitch



Series: Red and Blue [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Hospitalization, Post-Game, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 05:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16033847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch
Summary: Commander Shepard didn't fight the war alone, and she's not going to heal alone either.





	Always By Your Side

Shepard hated hospitals.

 

Always had, ever since she was a kid. Something about the smell of antiseptic combined with the too-bright lights always made her feel a little sick. When she had to enter one, whether for an exam or to visit a friend, she made it a point to get in and out as quickly as possible.

 

Of course, that was a little harder when you were all but strapped down to a bed. She’d been on bedrest since they’d rescued her from the wreckage of the Citadel. The first day or so she’d been there was kind of a blur, everything running together in a haze of pain, doctors, and medication. Miranda had been there, working tirelessly to restore Shepard’s battered body. Again.

 

She really owed Miranda a drink, once she was allowed to leave. As many drinks as she wanted, for life.

 

Dr. Chakwas had been there, too, running diagnostics on her implants and consulting with the hospital staff. Unlike most of the people working there, she wasn’t impressed or intimidated when Jaina tried to play the “ _ Commander-Goddamn-Shepard _ ” card, and she refused to be charmed into signing off on an early release.

 

So Shepard was confined to the hospital bed indefinitely, waiting for her recovery to progress to Chakwas’s satisfaction before she could leave. And given the extent of her injuries, her Cerberus enhancements could only help speed things along so much. Most of her body had been beat up in one way or another, and pretty much all of her skin had settled into a lovely shade of bruise. She’d had fractures in her shoulder, collarbone, and ribs, presumably where she’d been flung into something hard, and some internal bleeding to go with it. There were some nasty looking gashes on her face and where the plates of her armor hadn’t covered, although luckily the nanites in her bloodstream had kept infection at bay.

 

The worst injury was her right leg; the word “shattered” had been tossed around by a few of the doctors. They’d immobilized it, and surgery had gotten everything pretty much back where it should be, but even with regular ossification treatments it was going to take a while to heal completely. A while in which Shepard was not allowed to put any weight on the leg, which meant staying in bed.

 

Her crew had been in and out of her hospital room since they’d allowed visitors, all of them clearly relieved to see that she survived and simultaneously trying to act like they’d never expected any other outcome. It was kind of sweet, actually. And Vega promised to help spring her if they tried to keep her for too long. 

 

Although, N7 recruit or not, Shepard had a feeling Chakwas would be able to handle him if it he tried to get between her and a patient.

 

Garrus was at her side from almost the first moment she’d woken up, and he refused to leave even when the doctors wanted to examine his own injuries. They ended up performing his exam in her hospital room, with him sitting on the cot that had somehow made its way next to her bed. Luckily, most of his wounds could be mended with medigel and some rest. 

 

He was there every time she woke up in a panic, reassuring her when she didn’t know where she was; he held her hand when they administered treatments and changed bandages, even though she knew he hated hospitals as much as she did; more than once, he fell asleep half leaning against her bed, his three fingers entwined with her five.

 

She supposed that, once, she might’ve been embarrassed to have someone see her like this, weak and injured and unable to do practically anything for herself. But somehow, having Garrus at her side made it all a little bit easier. When she was feeling well enough, they talked or played cards or debated the merits of their favorite weapon mods. She’d expected him to get bored, keeping her company, but he always reassured her that there wasn’t anywhere else he wanted to be.

 

One night, about a week after her surgery, they were lying together, talking softly about things that didn’t really matter. Narrow as it was, they’d managed to find a position that let them share the bed, with her leaning back against his carapace and his arms wrapped around her. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but it was the closest they could get without jostling too many of her injuries.

 

Shepard was playing idly with one of his hands, tracing his palm with her fingers. It felt like the such a natural thing, this closeness they had, that sometimes she forgot how different they were. His skin was rougher and thicker than hers, but almost velvety on his palm and fingertips. His talons were filed back, the way he said most Turians who need to pull triggers wore them, and she ran a finger over the blunted edges.

 

“You know I love you, right?” she said, suddenly, interrupting his anecdote about C-Sec training.

 

He fell silent for a moment, and she continued. “Because I feel like I don’t say it enough. And I just… I just want you to know it. Really know it. And know that… that it means a lot to me, you staying. Here. With me,” she concluded lamely.

 

Garrus pulled her in as tightly as he could without aggravating her injuries, pressing his forehead into the crown of her head in a Turian kiss. She couldn’t pick up on all the nuances of his subvocals, but she knew them well enough to recognize that they were thick with emotion.

 

“I’ve got your six, Shepard,” he said, simply. “Always.” She twisted--gently--in his embrace, kissing his mouthplate softly. Garrus ran a hand through her hair, avoiding the areas that were still tender with bruising. When they parted, he just looked at her for a long moment, eyes tracing her features like he wanted to preserve them in his memory. “And, Shepard?” he said. “I… Turians, we don’t say some things out loud. We don’t need to, with subvocals; we can understand anyway. But…” he paused again, and Shepard almost interrupted, almost told him that he didn’t need to make any confessions, almost said that she knew without him saying. 

 

But she didn’t, and after a deep breath, he continued. “But I want to tell you. That, right now, I don’t want to be anywhere else. That thinking I lost you, again, was… the worst moment of my life. And that… I love you, Jaina Shepard.”

 

They didn’t say anything else for a while after that, recovering injuries be damned.


End file.
